


Fall to your knees (Pray to your gods)

by Crymore



Series: OC x Len [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Itty bitty thingy, i like the beginning better than the ending but eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crymore/pseuds/Crymore
Summary: Leonard Snart has a religious experience in a museum.





	Fall to your knees (Pray to your gods)

**Author's Note:**

> I love the beginning, but I ended it pretty badly in my opinion. If you wanna change it or have ideas how to revise it plz share. Wanna request a fic if any fandom, pairing, genre? Email me at crymore.fics@gmail.com !

Leonard Snart had a religious experience in the museum. 

Looking at the way the light shifted through the crystalline humanoid shaped creature before him, trailing his eyes from the dark color of gemstone that formed the feet, to the purples and soft grays and pink that made the legs, and the clear but facetted torso, arms, and head. The face was completely without features. No eyes to be seen or ears to hear with. No mouth to speak of and no nose in sight. 

The heist was easy enough to plan. Take Mick to Opal City to swipe some artifacts while the city’s humble but enriched museum was closed for a city-wide holiday. Grab the goods for some pompous ass, aka the curator, who wanted the insurance money on them.

It all started great (daylight robbery was Leonard’s favorite kind) and if anyone alerted the Scarlet Speedster of Central, he and Mick would be long gone, leaving a trail of frostbite and scorch marks in their wake. A perfect, easy plan. 

As alway, though, the plan went off the rails. 

They were making their leave, ancient vases and bowls and so on in discrete black gym bags, down the main stairs and halfway across the large foyer when the sound of someone clearing their throat caused the thieves to freeze in their tracks. 

Mick gave him a questioning look before they turned to see the source of the sound. 

They thought it was some sort of ostentatious statue that they both somehow miraculously missed seeing in their way to the pottery exhibit. 

Then the crystal statue’s (hands on the hips, back straight, the curvature of the torso and the shapely legs leaving no question it was meant to portray a woman) head… tilted? Slightly to the side, as if pondering.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m quite sure those don’t belong to you?” The voice was soft but heard, sounding high in the way only a woman’s voice could be, tinkling and curious. There was another element to the voice, something that sounded like it was digitally edited or altered to be so delicate. 

But Len wasn’t think to hard on that. Before him was a woman made of diamond. A physical and living gem. The target of nearly everything Leonard had ever coveted was formed into person. His breath hitched, his stomach swooped, behind the lens of his goggles the thief squinted to get a better look and commit the imagery to memory. 

It was like looking at god, an angel, the light from the bay window behind her danced in the facets of her body and threw little rainbows that reached down to the pair. Like a reverse stain glass window. 

“Aren’t you two from Central City? Heatwave and… Cold?” She lilted, starting to take her decent down the stair case. Every movement she made sounded like a chandelier swaying, the pitchy ringing of glass collided against each other. 

A retort was automatically on Leonard’s tongue. “Born and raised, beautiful.” He always flirted with anyone who confronted him like this. Police officers, psychologists, prison guards, the Flash… tacking in the compliment wasn’t so out of character. Beside, Leonard was sure if he didn’t say the word aloud once, he’d implode. It’s been playing at his lips the second he saw the woman. 

Mick just glared at her, fist curled around the heat-gun. “You fixin’ to stop us, lady?”

Leonard suddenly wished he pulled this job solo; it was hard to flirt with Mick around, always rolling his eyes and seeing through Len like a window. 

When she reached the bottom step, she went back to her hands on her hips. “Well I’m not letting you take them.”

Both Leonard and Mick raised their guns to the woman; trying to look menacing, to get their point across that they were, in fact, leaving with the goods.

The crystal woman gave off an air of nonchalance. “I think it doubtful those will work on me, but you can try your best.” Her head tilted again, challenging them. “If you can hit me, that is.”

She dodged suddenly to the left, easily avoiding the stream of the cold beast. She moved like a speed skater, hunkered down low and leaning forward,arms swaying rapidly. In a sudden turn the crystal woman managed to snag the bag Mick was holding and carefully leave it on the stairs. It was hard to hit her. Unlike Flash, this woman could make quick, sharp turns. She wasn’t as fast as the speedster, but she was easily more graceful. 

She stood still long enough for Leonard to get another good look at her, next to a statue of Lady Justice (oh, irony).

“You know our names, seems a bit unfair.” Leonard called. He and Mick had reverted into their old stance, back to back with guns leveled. “We don’t even know yours.”

Her head tilted again. She was beginning to remind Len of a bird at this point. Then again, it was hard to express oneself when one have no facial features. 

No one move; assessing the situation around them. No police yet, no backup, no place to hide in the open foyer. 

“Or should I just keep calling you beautiful?”

The woman stilled, was freakishly motionless and that terrified Leonard to a certain degree.

“… the newspapers call me Diamond-Cutter.”

It was well fitted. Len couldn’t even imagine the first person to see Diamond-Cutter. They probably pissed themselves in fear at the ethereal looking woman.

“You human?” Mick called crassly from behind his partner, looking over their shoulder to see their opponent. 

“I used to be.”

The hollowness of her voice made Len pause. 

“Tell you what,” he started, moving his cold-gun down to face the floor instead. Good tactical move. Looks nonthreatening, but he could ice the floor to throw her off or freeze her if needed. “Let’s cut a deal, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t make deals with criminals.” 

“Good thing that’s not who we are today, huh then?”

Leonard could practically feel Mick roll his eyes.

“… what do you mean?”

Len allowed himself to show a sly smile. “We’re just delivery boys today, Star Shine. We were hired by a one Quill Handerson to-“

“But he’s the curator.”

Ah, the sweet innocence of heroes. 

“Indeed; but these trinkets are worth more to him missing than sitting in glass case.” He elaborated. 

There was a beat of silence before Diamond-Cutter spoke again. 

“Say I believe you.” She started, moving forward slightly. “Then what will happen?”

Len smirked and dragged his goggles down. Mick groaned and followed suit, pushing his own pair above his brows and bolstering his weapon. Mick hated showing good will to law abiding heroes. 

Len gestures for the black bag of artifacts allying innocently on the stairs with his gun before holstering it. “Say you tried to stop us and failed; got a lead and take down Handerson.”

She took another delicate step forward. “And if you’re lying?

Typically this was when Len made direct eye contact and woo the hero with a smoldering look that would make them believe anything he said.

But he found it doubtful that would work on the only person he can’t make eye contact with. So laying on a salacious tenor in his voice would have to suffice. 

“You got one bag back; half the prize. Say you were duped but it’s not a complete loss. Win-Win.” He wished for a differ conversation topic, to be anywhere but at the revcienving end of her righteous anger. A funny thought occurred; the idea of this ethereal being in the low lights of Saint and Sinners (well, Len was the sinner, but this woman looked far more holy than a saint).

“That pottery can’t be that expensive.” She reasoned quietly to herself. “There’s no real value to them.” One crystal hand moved to stroke her crystal chin. 

Len noticed her finger tips were a pale pink. 

“No real reason for you to take them. And I do know the insurance is through the roof on those pieces.”

Len smirked. “See? All perfectly logical. Neither of us want to see this lovely museum destroyed, do we? And we-“ he gestured to Mick and himself, “certainly don’t want a fight with you.”

“I kinda wanna see what happens if we try to steal her.” Mick growled lowly enough for only Len to hear. The cold themed villain smirked at that. To steal a crystal woman, a diamond humanoid, a gemstone hero. Quiet the score to him.

The hero looked conflicted (as much as one could without a face) and sighed (at least Len thinks it was a sigh, it sounded more like a rough breeze rattling wind chimes).

“The police are coming here already.”

Len and Mick looked to the side to see several police squad cars beyond the bushes barreling down the road to the museum front.

A small swell of panic rose through Leonard. “Better make it a fast decision then, Star Shine.” He goaded, making no move to leave. 

Mick was getting antsy, his eyes were wide and darting, preparing for a fight. Len was cool as can be, staring down a woman who can’t even blink. 

“I need to make your departure look believable.” She clipped.

“Want me to freeze you to the floor, beautiful?”

There was no way to really tell, but Len had a sinking feeling she was smirking devilishly.

“… I’ve got a bad feeling.” Mick grumbled.

And for good reason. 

Apparently, in Opal City, if Diamond-Cutter was to get to you before the police, she would, well, throw you like a shot put towards the station.

Len landed roughly in a bush, Mick cursing and spitting out leaves next to him.

“I hate this city! That gem head threw us like that girl in that stupid video Lisa showed me!”

Len sat up with a fervor. “I need to know everything about that woman. Who she is, her usual haunts, how long she’s been operating-“

“Everything?”

“Everything, Mick.”

“It’s not like we’re gonna try and take her on again. You said this was a one time job!” The pyro argues. 

Len smiled, wide and blinding, nearly feral and terrifying. 

“You might not be, but I will.”

Mick groaned and fell into the bush again. “Dammit, not again, Snart.” 

Lens head was already reeling with possibilities and scenarios on how to gain Diamond-Cutter’s trust. What he could use her for, to test her abilities, to find out what made her a crystal- so many questions, so many theories... Len hasn’t thought his hard since his last big heist. 

Mick looked on wearily and stood up. “You can’t stalk her if we get caught Casanova. Lets jet.”

Len left Opal City on a mission, to seek out the Diamond-Cutter and know everything about her. As Mick exited the city in the black van they took, Len wondered if this was what it’s like to find religion, a cause for life. The feeling was dramatic, consuming. Len hasn’t felt like this since the first time he saw a real diamond (third grade field trip to the city museum. Five by seven and as heaven as lead. He wanted it more than any toy or fatherly affection). 

With a smile, Len started thinking about the connections he planned to pull to research Diamond-Cutter.

—-

Barry was really being to cramp his style by begging Len to come to the Labs with him every other week. You’d think a hero wouldn’t need the aid of a villain to save the city. 

But Len was feeling helpful and bored and saving Scarlet’s ass wouldn’t be a terrible way to waste his time. Especially since he could lord it over the hero for weeks to come. 

Unlike usual, with the whole Flash crew bustling around and Barry in his stupid suit, there was just Barry, plain clothes, with another person. A woman with a stern but worried face and blonde hair neatly pinned back. And wearing a pristine police uniform. 

“Hey, Len-“

“I already don’t like where this is going, Allen.” He seethed. Already planning his revenge plan for Barry betraying him. 

“This is a bad idea.” The woman said in a small voice, delicately and somber. It sound hauntingly familiar but Len couldn’t put his finger on why. 

Barry threw her a sympathetic look. “He can help, Snart has connections.”

“Help with what?” Len snapped.

Barry looked desperately to the criminal. “Someone’s trying to kill her.”

He scoffed. “I don’t concern myself with the petty lives of your friends. “

The woman stood up with a huff, fluid and graceful despite the anger in her eyes. “You owe me.”

Her face was now displayed fully, showing the soft curve of her cheeks and the plump lips pouting. Light blue eyes, nearly white, held a kind of defiance to them. She was pretty, in an old, classic, pin up girl way. 

“I think I’d remember owing a face like that.”

Her lips quirked, amused. “Wasn’t my face you saw,… star shine.”

The voice, the behavior, the grace. 

Len, for his own curiosity, picked up a heavy piper weight from a nearby stack and tossed it at the woman’s face. The second the object made contact with her face, the skin became clear and shiny, translucent and luminescent in the low lights of the lab. 

At the shock on Len’s face made the woman smile, even as the crystal once again became flesh. “Hello Mr. Snart. My name is Sheila Pennup. I heard you’ve been looking for me. It’s a pleasure to meet you outside of work.” She respectfully raised a hand to him

Barry rolled his eyes and leaned back into his seat, mumbling something about both of them being over dramatic. 

Leonard smirked. Five weeks of research nipped in the bud by the woman her self. 

“Sheila…” he drew out, rolling the name in his tongue. He stepped foreword, sure to enticingly wrap him fingers slowly around her outstretched hand, and dew as close as he could.

“Pleasures all mine.”


End file.
